


A Matter of Nature

by M_hys_a



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Depressing, Everything is Beautiful and Everything Hurts, F/M, Fade Tongue, Heavy on the drama, Infidelity, Jealous Cullen, Jealous Solas, Please Note the Rating, Post-Trespasser, Reunited and It Feels So Good, Trespasser Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-28
Updated: 2015-10-28
Packaged: 2018-04-28 13:21:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5092316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/M_hys_a/pseuds/M_hys_a
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On the eve of her wedding to the Commander, Deirdre Lavellan receives an unexpected visitor in the Fade.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Matter of Nature

                She stood at the edge of a pool, the forest around her still. But the appearance of peace was deceptive. If one listened for the quiet sounds, the thrumming of insects and the far-off call of owls and other night creatures in the trees, the forest was raucous. She smiled, marveling as though the nocturnal sounds were a hymn sung just for her, as if it were a precious secret meant for her ears alone. She could not recall how long she had been there, but the fact did not trouble her. She knew from experience that she was in the Fade. In her dream, she had walked out of the main hall at Skyhold and found herself here. With no sense of time and a blissful lack of purpose, she made her way down to the edge of the water. It had been a long time since she had maintained awareness in the Fade while dreaming. Her ability to walk lucid through the space in between the living and the world of spirits had lessened gradually since her separation from Solas, and in the last year it had vanished completely. Despite the sorrow she had faced there, she was strangely comforted to be back.

                “What are you singing, Inquisitor?”

                She froze at the sound of the voice and her low singing stopped abruptly. She hadn’t even been aware that she was singing- a habit of hers that he knew well.

                “Solas.” It was not a question, and she did not turn around.

                “Forgive me for intruding on you in this place, Inquisitor, but one of my agents informed me that congratulations are in order.” He was using an arch tone, full of easy confidence. In her confusion, she lost her resolve and turned to him, eyes questioning. At the sight of her turning, his eyes traveled down her body before coming back to meet her eyes. “So it is true!” She looked down at her attire and realized that she was wearing a cloak. Beneath that, peeking out from under the rough gray fabric, she saw glimpses of fabric that was shimmering white. She slid the cloak off, suddenly aware of its oppressive weight, and it fell to the ground at her feet. She looked down at her body, clad in the thin white material of a dress that had become familiar to her. Her wedding dress.

                She raised her eyes to him again, but found him studying the dress, the coy confidence of his earlier expression replaced by a look of weariness. He was wearing the resplendent armor from their last meeting, the armor of Fen’Harel, and the sight of him made her knees weak. During their last meeting, she had been so overwhelmed by his betrayal that she had not realized the extent of the beauty of his new identity. His armor was gleaming, his legs long and solid, the breadth of his shoulders accented by the pelt draped over them.  She tried to remind herself that this was the same creature as the apostate she had grown to love through years of turmoil, who had clad himself in the humblest garb and done his best to remain unnoticed. “Thank you for seeing me,” he had told her once. “Not many people do.” She thought grimly that that was no longer the case anymore.

                “So, it _is_ true,” he repeated quietly.

                She was pleased at the strength of her voice when it left her. Inside, she was trembling. “Solas, what are you doing here? You made me understand at the time of our last meeting that you could not be swayed from your intention, and that your feelings would not be changed. Why, then, have you come?”

                He met her eyes and took a step towards her. Shocked by the movement, she took a step back in tandem.

                “I… I came to congratulate you. And to tell you that I am pleased for you. You have made a wise choice in your husband. The Commander is a good man, and a loyal and faithful companion. I know that he loves you deeply.”

                An image came to her mind of the Commander, crouched alone in the middle of his quarters and surrounded on all sides by broken furniture, scattered papers, and shattered inkwells. After her last meeting with Solas, when she had returned to her companions having gained the burden of truth and lost half of her left arm, she had isolated herself for nearly three days, unable to share even his company. When she finally worked up the resolve to seek him out, she had found him thus, his cheeks flushed with the exertion of unleashing his rage on the quarters where they had spent so many of their intimate moments. He was still wearing his armor, and his shoulders were shaking. When she found him, she was unable to speak. In all their years of shared sorrow and triumph, she had never before seen him cry. “That _bastard_ ,” he spit, when he saw her standing frozen in the doorway, “Doesn’t he realize what he’s doing? _Doesn’t he realize he’s not the only one who loves you?_ ”

                “Solas- I don’t… I can’t…”

                “You don’t have to explain anything, _vhenan_.” A chill ran up her spine as he stepped towards her, and she realized that the voice he was using was no longer that of the cool and confident Fen’Harel. It was the quiet voice of Solas, her friend and lover. “In truth, I was inspired by selfish motives. When my agents informed me of your impending marriage to the Commander, I resolved that I would stay away from you, and that I would not give in to the temptation to see you. I nearly triumphed. As you can see, it was not until the night before your wedding that my will gave way. I- I wanted to see you, _vhenan_ , and… to kiss you one last time before you become the bondmate of another man. As I told you long ago: where I am from, we mate for life.”

                Deirdre bowed her head, overwhelmed by a combination of sadness, outrage, and, as always, an almost deafening desire to take him in her arms and shelter him like something wounded. “Solas… I…”

                Moving slowly, he lifted his hand to her chin, and used his fingers to tilt her face upwards to meet his eyes.

                “I am sorry, _vhenan_. I know that what I ask is wrong, but I would ask it of you anyway. Before, you have been lost to me through my own doing, but starting tomorrow, you will be lost to me of your own will. And while it brings me comfort that you are seeking happiness, I confess that it pains me to know that I am now losing you for good. Please, _vhenan_ …” his breath was barely a whisper. “One last kiss?”

                Her pulse was throbbing in her throat. She thought of Cullen, and his joyous, nearly disbelieving smile when she had agreed to marry him. She remembered how he swept her up in his arms and pulled her face to his. “I love you, Deirdre,” he had murmured in between kisses, “And I vow to heal the wounds that you have suffered.” Her guilt nearly overwhelmed her, and she felt a sudden need to flee, but Solas’ face was moving down towards hers, and she could not resist the pull. His kiss was soft and chaste. He pressed his lips against hers only slightly, as if taking a sip of fine wine from a glass. After a moment, he pulled away and looked down at her. With a small smile, he said, as if to himself “Ah, yes. I remember that taste.” Despite the chasteness of their kiss, her pulse was wild, and when she breathed “Solas, please,” he came back to her immediately.

                He moved his hand to cup the side of her face and brought his other arm around her waist, pulling her to him. His armor was cold against the thin material of her dress, so she reached her arms around his neck to pull the heat from him. His grip moved downward, grasping the muscular arc of her hindquarters and squeezing her hips against him. Feeling the pit of her lower stomach turn molten, a small sound escaped her throat. Of a sudden, he released her, and drew back with a ragged breath. One hand remained on her low back while the other hung limp at his side. He stared down at her, his breath ragged. “We must stop, _vhenan_. This is not right.”

                Somewhere in her consciousness, she felt something snap. The guilt that lurked in his voice, and the implications of her own wrongdoing within it, filled her with rage. How _dare_ he chastise her about the wrongness of what they were doing? He, who had deceived her, abandoned her, betrayed her, and then come creeping back at the news that she had found another companion? He, who had sought _her_ out! He, who had _instigated_ the damn kiss! She stared up at him in disbelief. His face was a blend of desire and sorrow, and he began to say “I’m sorry,” but he was not able to finish his statement before she struck him. She struck him with the palm of her hand, relishing the sound of its contact with the side of his face. She struck out with what remained of her left arm as well, unleashing a volley of strikes at his head and chest. He raised his arms to his face to shield himself, falling suddenly to his knees. His arms reached around her back and he pressed his face against her navel. She could feel the warmth of his skin through her dress.

                “Oh, _vhenan_ ,” he murmured, pressing his face more firmly into her body and moving lower, kissing the flesh between her hips and lifting the fabric of her dress so that he could stroke her bare legs. She felt her knees give way and fell to the ground in front of him before his gentle touch pressed her backwards. In one fluid moment, he moved over her, kissing her neck and using his hand to hike up the white folds of her dress. As in the living world, she wore no smallclothes under the thin material of her dress- a ploy meant to scandalize the tight-laced Commander – and the surprise seemed to have the same effect on Solas. She heard his breath catch when his hand found her bare beneath the folds. He moved himself upwards so that his face was above hers, meeting her eyes as his hands began to make slow, rhythmic movements against her. His eyes searched hers as she felt them fluttering, nearly losing focus in the face of her pleasure. “Will you forget me, _vhenan?_ ” he whispered, removing his hand and pulling her towards him, tearing the fabric of her beautiful dress down the front. Once her body was bared, his kisses moved to her breasts, pausing over her left before taking the gold ring into his mouth and massaging gently with his tongue. After a few moments, he moved himself downwards, his kisses leaving a trail of fire until he nestled himself into the folds between her legs. She let out a low, guttural moan, and felt him increase his pressure. Tears gathered in her eyes as waves of pleasure roared in her ears. His memory of her body was keen, his movements so practiced that she felt herself tensing in climax after what seemed like mere moments. “I will never forget you, Solas,” she murmured, closing her eyes and crying out in pleasure while tears made their way silently down her cheeks. She heard the sounds of his armor hitting the ground before he came between her legs again, grasping at her hips and pulling her to him. With practiced deftness, he lifted the small of her back so that her hips bucked upwards, and he entered her in one fluid motion. For a moment he simply froze, pressing his face against her neck and letting out a small groan before he began moving in swift, steady strokes. She wrapped her legs behind his hips and used the strength of her calves to pull him into her, craning her face to his and letting out strangled cries. It had been years since they had lain together, and yet they had fallen easily into their old rhythm, slipping together like puzzle pieces. She tried not to let herself be overwhelmed by the feeling of him inside of her, or by the sounds he made as he moved. She could tell by his ragged breath that he was nearing his peak, and she used the strength of her stomach to lift herself and place her mouth right next to his ear, in the way that she knew he liked. “Solas,” she whispered, her voice somewhere between a moan and a cry, and at the sound she felt him shudder. He pulled her to him and she felt his spasms of pleasure, marveling at the heady sense of power and pleasure that it gave her. With ragged breath, he lowered himself gently on top of her, covering her body with his. She felt her eyes filling with tears again, so she kept them closed and tried to steady her breathing. After catching his breath, Solas raised up on one arm and used his other hand to stroke her face until she opened her eyes. The sorrow in his face nearly overwhelmed her.

                “You will forget me, _vhenan_. For the path you walk is surrounded by companions, people who love and admire you, and a man who would see to it that you are never alone again. I walk a solitary path, one where success means the destruction of that which I hold dear and failure means a solitary death after a life spent in a penance that had no purpose. My love, I will carry your face with me until the end of my days, but there will be no more room for my face in your journeys.”

                In his eyes was the unfathomable sadness that had flashed when he knelt to take the Anchor from her nearly a year earlier. Deirdre was reminded again why her love of him had felt at times almost maternal. Most people saw him as arrogant and aloof due to his opinionated and reserved nature. But she had always seen between the lines of these tendencies, and in between his flashes of easy confidence and elitism, his steadfast certainty in himself and his own beliefs, she saw a man riddled with guilt and self-doubt, aware of his own misjudgments but unsure how to make them right. For all his wisdom, for all the ages he had spent among the ancient Elvhen and in slumber, she had seen this creature make countless blunders ranging from mundane to catastrophic, and despite herself she felt the urge to protect him. And despite his close-minded belief in his own rightness, it was his very inability to see the potential weaknesses in his own views and plans that drove home to her that he was in many ways still a young man. She remembered what she saw on his headstone in the Fade, his greatest fear – dying alone. And she saw that fear reflected on his anguished face.

                “Solas,” she murmured, bringing her hand up and stroking the backs of her fingers along the planes of his face. He closed his eyes and leaned into her hand, and she felt as if her heart were being shredded into pieces as she studied his freckled skin, the scar on his forehead, and the crows-feet around his eyes.

                “Sometimes, when I am alone and traveling the Fade, I imagine that I hear the sound of your voice singing the lullaby you used to share with me. I follow the sound, but you are never there.”

                “Solas, I am only ever as far away as you would will me to be. It was not me that constructed the barriers between us. Your isolation is self-inflicted.” She felt keenly the absence of her left hand, wishing that she could grasp his face and force him to meet her eyes.

                “I know, _vhenan_ ,” he breathed, leaning his face suddenly against her shoulder. “But to have come this far and to turn back is unthinkable. As you said when we had to decide what to do about Cole – you cannot force a creature to change its nature to ease its passage through the world. Your wisdom astounded me, and in dark moments it has kept me true to my purpose. It is my nature to carry out the plan to tear down the Veil and free the People. To do anything otherwise would be to act against my nature, and to risk corrupting myself like a spirit that would become a demon.”

                Every fiber of her being cried out in protest at having her own words used against her, but she remained silent. She fought back an overwhelming urge to sob. Now that her pulse had begun to calm, now that she was no longer at risk of having her body dragged out to sea by waves of desire, the realization of what she had just done threatened to drown her. On the eve of her wedding to the most loyal person she had never known, she had made love to a man who had misled her and abandoned her, and who was certain to do so again. Meanwhile, her soon-to-be-husband was likely curled around her sleeping form, his arms cradling her even in sleep to keep her safe. Oblivious to what she had done.

                “Solas, Cole is a spirit. All that he is is predetermined and defined. We are living creatures, and our nature, if it exists at all, is more akin to clay or plaster. It can be molded. It _must_ be molded, as part of our survival. For what hope of joy can the world hold to those who walk through it believing that every decision that must be made in their life has already been made for them?”

                He had begun to smile softly. “My thoughtful Lavellan,” he murmured, in a voice that made it clear he did not agree with what she said. Around them, the sounds of the forest had changed. The owls and nocturnal insects had become quiet, replaced by the call of songbirds and animals skittering out of their dens. Day was coming – her wedding day.

                “Solas, you are entitled to your own decisions about how you live your life. If you believe that it is your nature to carry out the destruction of this world, then so be it. If you believe that it is in your nature to do so alone, then so be it.” Her voice suddenly had a weariness to match his own. This time, she would not cry out to him in protest, not beg him to reconsider, not vow that she would not give up on him. Her heart could not bear it. This time, she would let him go. He sensed the shift in her tone and lifted himself, studying her. “You surprise me, my heart. I had not thought you would agree so quickly with my decisions, given the strength of your earlier reactions.” She kept her face lifted upwards, not meeting his eyes. “No, Solas. I will not fight you. Your life is yours to live, as my life is mine. Does it displease you that I would do as you have asked me, and stand aside?” At this, he caught her chin and turned her face towards him, his eyes suddenly glinting. “Is your mind still with me, _vhenan_? Or has it already returned to the man that awaits you on the other side of the Veil? It is not yet dawn, I had hoped to have you to myself for a while longer at least.”

                “Solas…” she closed her eyes again and pulled her face away, unable to bear his steely gaze. “Don’t you understand? I have given you your freedom! I am doing as you asked, and I am letting you go! I know that you walk a solitary path, one where you are not answerable to anyone else for the decisions that you make. You made that painfully clear at every stage of our relationship. But I – I have no such luxury. The decisions I make – they affect people…”

                He was right. She was thinking of the Commander, feeling like she might be swallowed by her grief.

                “You would go back to him already, wouldn’t you, _vhenan_? Back to the man that waits for you? Does it pain you, what we have done?”

                She squeezed her eyes shut as she felt them fill with tears. Anxiety was rising in her throat, and she was torn between her panic at the thought of parting from Solas and her shame at the thought of greeting Cullen when she woke. She felt Solas’ weight lift from her body, and when she opened her eyes she found him covered again by his glinting armor, his eyes a frosty blue. When she looked down at herself, she was once again wearing her wedding dress. It was no longer torn or covered in dirt and leaves, but utterly pristine. Fen’Harel held out his hand to her and helped her to her feet. When he spoke, it was as if from a distance. She felt a dagger lodge in her heart and panic rise in her throat. “ _He’s leaving,”_ the voice of her mind keened. “ _He’s leaving me again_.”

                “Do not trouble yourself over what we have done here, Inquisitor,” he said coolly, “Remember what we discussed so many years ago. By the reckoning of most, none of this is real.”

                At that, he leaned in to her, bringing his lips close to her ear, and her mouth fell open at the realization of what he planned to do. She could not speak in time to stop him.

                “ _Wake up._ ”

                When her eyes flew open again, it was to the sight of the Commander, sleeping with a faint smile on his face. His hand was holding hers in the small space that lay between them. She closed her eyes and wept.


End file.
